


Ethereal

by SilverCardinal



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Can also be read as gen, Implied Relationships, M/M, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:57:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6015241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverCardinal/pseuds/SilverCardinal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All words that wanted to be said were lost.</p><p>Both of them were confined in deafening fear and loneliness. Both dying, both of their worlds slowly becoming undone in those few months.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ethereal

They lost him in the beginning of December, just as frost stretched along the buildings and soft snow accumulating on the sidewalks. Suoh didn’t make it to the ceremony and small whispers had attributed it to his perceived indifference. Kusanagi was that only one who saw him that day, even then it was a just a single hand though a narrow crack in the door. The night before Suoh said he wasn’t feeling well.

Well, it wasn’t an absolute lie.

* * *

Munakata noticed the signs in early February. Occasional headaches and some memory loss. He had associated it to stress and the loss of his powers since the destruction of the Slates.

_Nothing to worry about Awashima-kun._

And so he hid behind a smile as the throbbing in his frontal cortex grew and hammered away and pounded against his skull, slowly digging its way further into his head. Pain and discomfort were not unfamiliar to Munakata, so no one knew.

He visited Homra time to time, to take his mind off of his duties and to get some fresh air. The pain was pushed behind light laughter and jokes. Munakata thought he could fool them (perhaps himself as well) by believing that there wasn’t a problem and for some time, they did. It felt good. To have the freedom of speech, words that flicked off the tip of his tongue and flowed out of his mouth like a river. Something so simple, pleasurable. It was so easy to dazzle and fool people with speech, as long as he chose the right words in the right combination. It was something that came eloquently easy to him.

_Drop the fancy talk for once, Munakata._

Suoh was one who couldn’t be moved by it.

When Munakata began to trip over his words, they began to worry. The occasional headaches turned into frequent migraines and Munakata spoke a bit less. It gnawed away at his vocabulary. Intricate. Lithe. Imbroglio. Amenable. All lost.

* * *

The air had begun to warm; Munakata had left the bar hours ago. Kusanagi had a weighted worry in the pit of his gut and just as Suoh was about to leave, he tells him to keep an eye out. Suoh’s brows furrow together as the door closed behind him.

* * *

It became serious in the last weeks of March. Munakata had called in sick for three days straight and no one had seen him in that interval. Scepter 4 was swamped in paperwork and Awashima had called Kusanagi. And so Suoh went to go to check on him.

He found Munakata with his head bowed over the toilet.

They spent the weekend locked in the bathroom

* * *

He’s diagnosed in April. Glioblastoma multiforme. Suoh stopped coming over so Kusanagi and Awashima started. Munakata said nothing as Suoh left. Words crumbled and turned into dust and Suoh closed the door before he could even make a sound.

They staggered their schedules to ensure Munakata is never alone and he admits they were much better nurses to say the least. Doctors had told him to stay in bed (in which both reinforced). But Munakata would find ways to escape and climb to the roof of his apartment where he would remain for hours.

He rarely spoke now, the very sound of his voice vibrating through his body made the migraines absolutely unbearable, which caused his stomach to churn into a whirlpool. It was risky for him to do such activities in his current state. Every day it was harder for him to catch his breath, his heart would pound against his ribs and Munakata wouldn’t even be half way up the stairs. He persisted for several weeks before Kusanagi had found him out of breath, sweating and crumpled next to the door on the rooftop.

Kusanagi and Awashima had become alternating permanent accessories in his home.

 _I can’t believe you did that_ , Awashima told him while he leaned over the toilet.

 _Yes. You can_ , he laughed in the porcelain. Munakata heard her breathing start to shake as she rubbed circles on his back

* * *

By July, Munakata was confined to his bed. He had started to lose control of the muscles in his body. If he tried to walk, he would collapse within a few steps. He refused crutches or any other forms of assistance besides the walls and furniture.

_There’s no need Awashima-kun._

He stumbled through his apartment for a few days before his right leg completely gives out. It twitched desperately and soon after Munakata loses command over it. Days later he lost all feeling in his foot.

Munakata was terrified. But he still hid behind the smiles.

* * *

Munakata’s family visit often.

They brought board games and puzzles to pass the time and sometimes Taishi will bring Umi and Kai. Munakata’s loved his niece and her playful energy but there are times when she would get too excited and her high pitched laughter rings inside his skull until he’s nauseous.

His father sat next to him and read the news to him. He spoke in a consistent tone and low volume which Munakata is grateful for. He closed his eyes and enjoy the pleasant atmosphere as he listens to whatever recent dunce move the Prime Minister had done (his father knows that gets an upturn at the corners of his mouth), the current trend of the Japanese market and whatever else was in the paper.

His mother cooked his favourites every time she visited. She makes far too many portions even though Munakata can barely hold down tea, but the loving gesture is received regardless.

Taishi is the one who visited the most among his immediate family. He would bring a small radio for them to listen to and small packed lunches of plain rice and vegetables. In August Munakata saw his brother more often than Kusanagi or Awashima. Taishi said that he had hired more workers and that the business was in capable hands even in his absence.

_You don’t need to take so much time out of your day for me Nii-san._

_What are you talking about Reisi? Can’t a guy see his brother when he wants to?_

_You don’t need to worry about me_ , Reisi’s hand found Taishi’s and he gives a soft squeeze to comfort him. _Everything will be fine._

Reisi smiled at his brother to enforce his words but Taishi’s expression turned into a broken one and the room is filled with a deafening silence and a brother’s heartbreak.

* * *

While Munakata was asleep and Awashima is by his side, Kusanagi left the apartment.

That night he found Suoh in Homra after Kamamoto closes up the bar. There are cuts and bruises littered on his face and Kusanagi can imagine that there are more. He knows it’s probably not his place to interfere in whatever issues Suoh has with Munakata but this is different. Kusanagi is all too aware that he won’t do anything without a proper push, and in this situation he needed much more than that.

 _It’s not enough, you know_. Kusanagi wasn’t one to scold his friend in such a delicate position, but Suoh felt like he was.

 _It’s not my job._ Suoh feels like a child. Kusanagi grabs the front of his shirt and pushes him to the back of the couch.

_Friendship isn’t a **job.**_

* * *

August was upon them, the leaves had just begun to change colour. Suoh stayed in Homra territory.

* * *

Munakata kept a dictionary by his bed. He read the words, trying to regain the various pieces of vocabulary that he had lost. Reverence. Limpid. Oblivion. His tongue would not (could not) cooperate and the verses came out lacking the finesse it once had. His lips trembled with hesitation as he continued to find the words, to find the form on his mouth. But the right side of his jaw went numb and for the first time, Munakata gave up.

Through September, Awashima, Kusanagi and Taishi watched him as he went through the dictionary. Cherish. Contrary. Several weeks passed and Awashima noticed that Munakata went back to the same pages. She covered her mouth; her body began to shake and her breathing heavy.

Munakata didn’t understand.

Perennial. Cessation. Memoir.

* * *

Winter came by as well as the cold. The October air was chilled and so was Munakata. He began to sleep for longer hours with occasional bouts of somnolence. Taishi had stayed at his apartment for the last week. Ever since his brother experienced his first seizure he took a leave at work, too afraid to leave Munakata alone.

Late in October was when it happened. Taishi was in the kitchen preparing tea when a thud came from Munakata’s room. He was on the floor next to his bed, legs tangled in the sheets. His eyes are wide open but the rest of his face is lax, saliva was dripping at the side of his mouth as his body twitched and shuddered. Munakata had lost all control on his right side.

Taishi lost control of his tear ducts and cried.

* * *

Awashima spent her evening at Homra while Munakata was transferred to the hospital. She ended up spending her night there as well and fell asleep on the couch with her eyes red and bruised. Kusanagi found a blanket for her and hunches over his bar to take another drink.

Suoh came through the doors and he feels his body tighten as he sees her on the couch.

Kusanagi looked up at him with bleary eyes, _Go._

Suoh looked away; he never liked it when people cried.

* * *

The building tops were vacant as winter came around. Suoh stayed on one (or two if someone did come by) of them for hours. He didn’t want to see other people. All he wanted was to be alone with a pack of cigarettes.

_Friendship isn’t a job._

No, he thought. But it shouldn’t be agony either.

* * *

Munakata quickly deteriorated through November. He could no longer read because it made his head spin. The right side of his body was paralyzed and he was fed through a tube. He slept for at least eighteen hours of the day, for the moments he was awake he stared off into space while listening to the small radio. He saw Umi and Kai once since he was emitted to the hospital and asked Taishi to leave them at home or with their parents the day after. The sight of them made him want to cry.

_When you get better, we’ll go to the amusement park okay?_

So young, innocent. Unaware that their beloved uncle wasn’t going to get better.

Not by a long shot.

* * *

Both Awashima and Kusanagi went to see Munakata one early morning. He’s asleep when they enter the room. Pastel lights pass through the curtains and they turn to muttering from Munakata’s bed.

A name. A plea.

Awashima placed her head in her hands and Kusanagi picked up his coat and left the room.

* * *

_You have to go_. Kusanagi found Suoh onto the rooftops. It’s late into November and it has just begun to snow.

Suoh doesn’t turn to face him.

_There isn’t much time left._

_I know._ He feels his body shaking and hopes Kusanagi doesn’t see. He had distanced himself for so long. How could a few words just bring him back?

_I know._

* * *

On the last day of November, Suoh doesn’t leave his room.

* * *

On the first day of December, Suoh punched a hole in the wall.

* * *

On the second day of December, Suoh went to the hospital.

* * *

Munakata was barely awake when Suoh stepped into the room. Munakata’s face and hair had lost the shine and luster they once had and his body had a grayish tint. His frame was considerably smaller, muscle wasted away from disuse and his body resorting to self-cannibalism. His arms were so pale and the skin transparent and thin. Suoh broke when he saw him.

Quietly gasping and coughing on the air, he staggered over to Munakata’s bed side. Shakily taking his friend’s hand, Suoh tried to speak but the words fell apart and turned into sand that sank into his throat.

It had been so quick (or perhaps too slow). Eleven months. And he wasn’t there. Self-confined in his loneliness.

Suoh presses his forehead against Munakata’s shoulder and cried.

_I’m sorry._

* * *

On the third day of December, Suoh was alone.

* * *

On the day of the funeral, Kusanagi stood with a small crowd of people. He left before the ceremony was over.

_Apparently the Red King was invited._

_He’s not here? I thought they were friends._

_You’ve seen how he is. He probably doesn’t care._

_What’s wrong with him?_

_How awful._

He had heard enough.

He knocked on Suoh’s door four times before it cracks open.

 _Here._ Kusanagi lifted something from his pocket and held it to the crack.

A hand ghosted through the door, fingers curling around the frame of the object. Kusanagi heard an unsteady breath as he let go of the item which disappeared into the dark room.

 _Thanks._ Suoh murmured quietly as he closed the door.

* * *

Suoh leaves Homra that night through the window of his room. He didn’t want to see anyone. He clutches the picture frame in his right hand and he finds himself in an empty park. The park where Munakata had recently became the Blue King, and found the Red King smoking on the bench.

The photo is of them at the bar. It was a few days after the destruction of the Slates and Anna had captured the perfect moment of them. Both are turned to face the camera, cigarettes in-between their fingers with a small smiles on their faces. They were free of all worries, and simply happy that the both came out alive.

Suoh sits on the bench, holding the frame closely.

"Sovereignty. Petrichor. Memorable." Munakata whispers tenderly in his ear.

"Egalitarian. Lethe."

"Incandescent."

"Crepuscular." He shuddered.

"Eternal." Munakata says softly.

"Ephemeral." Suoh chokes.

"Divine." Munakata’s voice fades.

"Transient."

"Ethereal."

**Author's Note:**

> The initial prompt for this was actually quite fluffy. Like no-one-dying, everything-is-alright-and-hunky-dory fluffy lol ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
